


Never Been A Sinner

by FlyingMachine



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, S3: E3: Benediction, Season 3 Spoilers, Uniform Kink, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingMachine/pseuds/FlyingMachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben is a soldier, a spy, and a virgin.</p><p>Caleb finds out what happened to Ben in New Jersey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Been A Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains spoilers for Season 3 through Episode 3, after which it diverges from aired canon.

The first time Ben kisses Caleb, they are five years old. Anna dares him to do it, and Caleb turns red and punches him in the arm. 

 

The second time Ben kisses Caleb, the ink on his commission is barely dry and his uniform is still stiff and new. Caleb takes him to the tavern to celebrate and they drink so many toasts that Ben can’t see straight. They stumble back to camp, arms around each other’s shoulders for support. 

When Ben leaves Caleb at his tent, he throws his arms around Ben and kisses him on the mouth with drunken exuberance. Ben pulls back, startled, and Caleb laughs at him.

“What’s wrong, hasn’t anyone kissed you before?” Caleb asks. Ben has drunk too much to lie. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. Caleb looks startled at this revelation. He squeezes Ben’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Well, don’t worry Benny, you don’t have to marry me now, no matter what your father told you,” he says. Ben rolls his eyes and pushes him into his tent.

“Good night, Caleb,” Ben says.

Ben doesn’t think he can kill someone until the redcoat aims his musket at Caleb. Ben has been practicing the shot all his life, and it seems too easy when he makes it. 

When Ben finds out Nathan is dead, Caleb stays up all night with him and lets Ben drink all of his good whiskey.

 

The third time Ben kisses Caleb is after Ben almost dies.

“Working late?” Caleb asks. Ben is bent over his writing desk at headquarters, frowning at a poorly-developed letter. Caleb’s found him here every night since he’s been well enough to resume his duties. Ben still hasn’t said much about how he ended up back at camp with a pistol-ball in his side, and all Caleb knows is that Reverend Worthington is dead and Ben has a fresh scar above his right hip to match the one in his shoulder.

“You should go to bed, the war’s not going anywhere,” Caleb says.

“I’m still behind,” Ben says. “Culper Junior has a lot to say.”

“Come on, go to bed. Or at least do something besides unscramble that mess of a code you made,” Caleb says. Ben seems to consider this.

“Come back to my quarters and we’ll have a drink,” he says. Caleb grins. 

Ben’s quarters are half an attic room that contains a bed, a fireplace, and little else. His campaign trunk sits against the wall. Ben takes a bottle from the mantelpiece and fills two glasses before handing one to Caleb. Caleb looks at Ben in the firelight. His friend looks exhausted, he’s lost weight while his injury has healed. Caleb can’t remember the last time he’s seen Ben smile. 

“I want you to tell me what happened to you,” Caleb says. Ben goes stiff, a hand on the mantel, his glass halfway to his lips. He gives Caleb a long look like he’s deciding something, then finishes his drink in two swallows. He turns to the fire and rests his boot on the hearth, head bowed so that Caleb can’t see his face. Caleb admires the long line of his body silhouetted by the fire. He’s always been a little in love with Ben.

“After I killed Worthington, I was ambushed by Lieutenant Gamble,” Ben says. His voice is flat, the tone Caleb’s heard him use a hundred times to report on troop movements or supply requisitions. “He knocked me unconscious and tied me to his horse. He told me he was taking me to see John Andre. I stole his horse and escaped, but he shot me. The horse threw me and ran. I knew Gamble would pursue, and if he caught me I’d be hanged. I ran from him until I came into town. I stole a horse and rode it back to camp.”

Caleb shudders as he remembers Ben’s arrival in the camp: ashen, blood stained all down his side and all over his hands, feverish and barely conscious. Ben grips the mantel tightly, his knuckles white, his shoulders tense.

“Gamble put his gun to my head and told me to kneel in the river,” Ben continues. “I thought about the spy ring, and all our work. I couldn’t let everything we’ve done be for nothing. I promised Abe and Anna that I would keep them safe. I swore I’d never break that promise, even if Gamble caught me.” Caleb nods. Ben turns from the fireplace and fixes Caleb with a solemn stare.

“And then I thought about you.”

Caleb’s heart speeds up in his chest. Ben closes the distance between them and when Caleb looks up at him his blue eyes are dark and troubled. 

“I was so afraid,” Ben says, his voice just above a whisper. “I thought I would die and you wouldn’t even know what happened to me.” Caleb lays a hand on Ben’s cheek and Ben bows his head.

“I’m sorry I let you go alone,” Caleb says. Ben pulls in a breath as if to speak. Instead he leans down and kisses Caleb. His lips are warm and soft and when Caleb puts his hands on Ben’s shoulders he feels that he is trembling. Caleb kisses him back and wraps his arms around him. He can feel Ben breathing and the warmth of him through his clothes, and he is immeasurably grateful that Ben is alive. Ben breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Caleb’s.

“I’m glad you came back,” Caleb says. He takes Ben’s hand and rubs his thumb over the knuckles. Ben’s long fingers curl against his. He wants those hands on his skin. He lays a hand on Ben’s chest.

“What do you need, Ben?” he asks. Ben doesn’t answer. He kisses Caleb again, with none of the sweetness of before. Ben’s hands stroke up his sides and Caleb sucks in a breath when Ben bites down on his lower lip, following with his tongue. Ben is a little clumsy and Caleb adores the soft sounds of his breathing in between their kisses.

When Ben’s tongue flicks behind his teeth Caleb realizes that Ben wants him, wants this, and he pulls Ben to him so that they touch at chest and hips. He presses his hips against Ben’s, just teasing, testing the waters until Ben responds. It feels good, and Ben’s little gasp when Caleb grinds against him starts an ache right behind his cock. 

“Tell me when you want to stop,” Caleb says. Ben rolls his hips up against Caleb’s and looks him in the eyes.

“I don’t.”

Caleb doesn’t think he’s ever gotten so hard so fast. Ben kisses his neck, untying his neckcloth so that he can press his lips against Caleb’s pulse and suck hard enough to leave a mark. He sets his teeth in it, drawing little hot sparks of pain that he soothes with his tongue. Caleb wants Ben’s marks on him, and to put his own into Ben’s fine skin.

Ben unbuttons Caleb's waistcoat and tugs his shirt from from his breeches. The cold air in the attic raises goosebumps on Caleb’s skin. Ben’s fingers fit perfectly in the valleys of Caleb’s ribs when he sweeps his hand up his waist to rest on his chest. 

“Take your coat off,” Ben says. Caleb drops his coat to the floor and Ben yanks his shirt over his head. Caleb trails his hand down Ben’s chest, fingers bumping over the buttons of his waistcoat. He gives Ben plenty of time to react as he follows the line of buttons to the bulge in the front of Ben’s breeches. Ben gasps quietly in his ear and stills, his mouth pressed to Caleb’s neck.

Caleb palms him through the soft leather of his breeches and rubs his thumb over the clear line of his cock. Ben’s breath hitches a little on every stroke. He reaches for his coat and has it half-off his shoulders before Caleb catches his hands.

“Not yet,” Caleb says. He guides Ben’s hand to his own groin and presses his fingers against his cock. Ben kisses Caleb’s shoulder, sucking hard on his collarbone to draw up another mark. Ben moves lower, kissing a line down Caleb’s breastbone before closing his lips over his left nipple. It tickles more than anything, but Caleb enjoys Ben’s enthusiastic exploration too much to tell him so. Bending lower, Ben drops kisses along Caleb’s ribs and down his belly and Caleb knows his target.

“It’s easier if you get on your knees,” Caleb says. 

“Is that an order?” Ben asks. “Don’t forget I outrank you.” Caleb knows Ben is teasing, but he wants Ben’s mouth on him desperately.

“No ranks in here,” he says. “Get on your knees.” Caleb thinks his heart might stop when Ben goes down smoothly and looks up at him. Caleb cups his cheek and Ben leans into the touch. Caleb wonders if he knows he’s doing it. He rubs his thumb over Ben’s soft lower lip. Ben unlaces Caleb’s breeches and slips them down over his hips, his breath hot across Caleb’s cock.

Caleb has imagined this a thousand times and none of them hold a candle to having Ben in front of him on his knees in uniform, looking up at him with those blue eyes. Ben kisses Caleb’s belly, one hipbone, the other. He takes Caleb’s cock in his hand and strokes, adding pressure until he has Caleb thrusting into his hand.

“I want your mouth,” Caleb says, and loves the way Ben blushes at the words. Ben doesn’t hesitate and his mouth is just as hot and perfect as Caleb had known it would be.

“Christ, Ben,” Caleb moans. Caleb lays a hand on his head as Ben works him. “You look good like this, Benny,” he says. “I knew you would. You look so fine in that uniform. I should make you keep it on when I fuck you, too.” Ben’s eyes widen.

“That’s right,” Caleb says. “I want you, Ben.” He brushes Ben’s hair out of his eyes and rests his hand at Ben’s nape, tugging gently on his hair. Ben presses his free hand between his own legs and rolls his hips against it. Caleb watches, feeling the pressure building low between his hips. Ben’s cheeks are hollowed out as he works his hand and mouth together over Caleb. Caleb knows this isn’t going to take long at all.

“I’m your first, aren’t I?” Caleb asks. He knows the answer. The thought that Ben’s never done this for anyone but him sends a bolt of arousal straight down to his cock and he comes with no time to warn Ben. Ben manages, wiping a the back of his hand over his mouth as he leans back. Caleb slumps against the wall and catches his breath. Ben is still kneeling, waiting.

Caleb shucks off his breeches and boots and Ben’s eyes follow every movement. He draws Ben to his feet and kisses him as he unties Ben's stock and takes his time undoing Ben’s waistcoat buttons. Ben shrugs out of his coat and waistcoat and pulls his shirt over his head. Ben’s hands fall to his sword belt and Caleb pulls them away so that he can disarm Ben himself. He unbuttons Ben’s breeches and hooks his fingers in the waist, drawing them down over the curve of his ass. Ben tugs off his boots and steps out of his breeches and Caleb looks him over with appreciation. Caleb takes his hand and leads him to the bed.

“Now it’s your turn,” he says.

 

Ben’s heart is racing when Caleb takes him to bed. Caleb lays him down with a hand on his chest and climbs on top of him. His solid weight feels good. Caleb explores him with little light touches, beginning at his shoulders and trailing warm, rough hands over his chest, hips, up his thighs. 

“Caleb,” Ben says impatiently. Caleb grins at him and gets off the bed. He digs through Ben’s campaign trunk until he finds the bottle of oil at the bottom. He kneels between Ben’s legs and pours a little oil into his palm.

When Caleb takes him in hand Ben closes his eyes and sinks his teeth into his lip to keep quiet. No one else has ever touched him like this, but this is Caleb, and Ben trusts him with his life. Caleb strokes him slowly until Ben is rocking into his grip, fingers clenched in the sheets. But when Caleb slips a finger between his legs and farther back, Ben hesitates, suddenly unsure that this is right. Caleb feels his tension. He stops and puts his hands on Ben’s spread thighs, rubbing his thumbs in little circles. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. Ben feels his cheeks heat. A part of him will always be the Reverend’s son, and he could not easily forget his father’s sermons. Caleb studies him and a slow smile touches his mouth.

“It’s a sin, isn’t it, what we’re doing?” he asks, his voice dark. Ben nods. Caleb slides up to kiss him until Ben settles. “I figure we’re both well beyond grace by now,” Caleb says, and Ben knows he’s right. He wants this, wants Caleb. He’s hardly wanted anything more in his life.

“Touch me, Caleb,” Ben says. Caleb moves his right hand from Ben’s thigh and slips his fingers back to touch his entrance, stroking lightly until he feels Ben relax. Caleb pushes his finger into Ben and strokes down Ben’s hip and thigh with his free hand. He adds his second finger, working both slowly into Ben. 

Caleb bends to kiss Ben’s neck. His cock brushes Ben’s and Ben grinds up against the hot, stiff flesh and back down on Caleb’s fingers. A familiar tension is building low in his belly and Ben realizes that he has no control now, he is at the mercy of another’s hand. It’s a new sensation and it nearly overwhelms him, but at the same time the thought of coming for Caleb makes his heart race faster.

“I’m ready,” he murmurs into Caleb’s ear, and as he says it realizes it is true. Caleb rises to his knees and slicks oil down the length of his cock. He withdraws his fingers from Ben and leans down, his chest touching Ben’s as he pushes inside him. Caleb catches Ben’s hand and places it on his hip. Ben strokes over his arse.

“You’re in command,” Caleb says. Ben guides him, his hands on Caleb’s hips. Caleb lays his hand on Ben’s cheek and Ben looks up at him. Caleb thrusts into him slowly and Ben can’t look away.

“Tell me,” Caleb says, “are you a liar?” 

“Yes,” Ben says. Caleb presses his open mouth to the scar in Ben’s shoulder.

“Your lies kept us all alive,” he says. He rocks into Ben, harder now, finding his rhythm, and it feels good. He grasps Ben’s hands and laces their fingers before gently pinning Ben’s hands above his head. 

“Are you a killer?” Caleb asks, grinding his hips down. Ben gasps and arches up, wanting more of it.

“Yes,” he says. Caleb runs his thumb over the scar in Ben’s side and Ben flinches.

“Me too,” Caleb says. “And if this is worse than killing a man, I’ll gladly burn for it.” He thrusts harder into Ben until Ben moans, his hips coming off the bed.

“That’s right,” Caleb says. “I want to hear you.”

“You talk too much,” Ben says, mostly to keep Caleb talking.

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d be quiet, did you?”

“I’d be worried if you were,” Ben replies, breathless.

“You like it when I talk to you,” Caleb says and Ben feels his face burn at the truth. 

Caleb releases his hands and reaches down to stroke Ben’s cock in time with his thrusts. Ben can hardly stand it and Caleb bends to kiss him, speeding up his rhythm. Ben feels his orgasm coming, tightening all down his spine. He writhes under Caleb, trying to get closer, but Caleb holds him down. Ben clenches his fingers in Caleb’s hair and on his ass and pulls him into him over and over. 

“Caleb,” Ben moans. It’s the only thing he can think to say.

“Oh, Benny,” Caleb says, and it's mostly a moan. “My darling Benny-boy, _ah_ , Christ, you’re so good, I love you so--”

And Ben is coming, lights bursting behind his eyes as his climax takes him apart. 

“There you are,” he hears Caleb say. Ben wraps trembling arms around Caleb’s shoulders as he thrusts into Ben, his rhythm gone. Ben wants Caleb to come, to feel him lose control, and to know that he is the reason. He holds Caleb against him and speaks into his ear, telling him the secret he’s kept locked away for so long. 

“Yes,” Caleb whispers and his whole body tightens as he empties himself into Ben. He collapses on Ben’s chest and Ben drops a kiss on his hair and listens to him breathe. After a few minutes Caleb stirs and eases himself to Ben’s side to lay on his stomach, head resting on his arms. He looks up at Ben, the corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile. 

“Well?” he asks. Ben chews his lip thoughtfully.

“It was alright, I suppose,” he says. Caleb punches him in the arm.

“This is why I don’t go to bed with virgins. They don’t appreciate good work.”

“Oh, have you gone to bed with that many? We should pin a medal on your for your service,” Ben says.

Caleb props himself on his elbow and looks down at Ben. “Actually, it was just the one,” he says. Ben feels the flush spread up his neck to his cheeks. Caleb pulls the quilt over them and lies down next to him. He wraps an arm around Ben’s waist. Ben drifts towards sleep, but something nags at him, and he remembers what it is.

“Caleb,” he says into the dark.

“Hm?”

“Did you mean what you said? Before?” 

“What did I say?” Caleb asks.

“That you loved me.” 

Caleb lays his hand on Ben’s cheek, stroking over his cheekbone with a rough thumb. He presses a gentle kiss to Ben’s mouth.

“I meant it. Every word.”


End file.
